


Fernweh

by lilolilyrae



Series: The 666 Words Ineffable Husbands Series [56]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Fernweh, Gen, Memories, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Rain, Wanderlust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilolilyrae/pseuds/lilolilyrae
Summary: An angel looks out of a window.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The 666 Words Ineffable Husbands Series [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1393198
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37
Collections: 666 Ineffable Husbands





	Fernweh

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so introverted, the only place I currently feel Fernweh for is middle earth.  
> (Yes I've binge watched all three LotR extended edition films again. While reading the hobbit. This is my life now)

> _Noun:_
> 
> _**farsickness/ Fernweh** _

  1. > _( uncommon) Wanderlust, yearning for far-off places._




Aziraphale is looking out of the window into the everlasting London winter rain.

How long since he hasn't seen anything different out of a window? How much time has passed since he started calling the bookshop his home?

He doesn't know what brought this up just now- the weather isn't even particularly bad that day, for England standards, and he hasn't been reminded of his long ago travels by anything that he is aware of. 

And yet...

Looking into the rain, a part of him wants to be somewhere else entirely, somewhere far away and _new_ , if only to look at the rain from a different window that he hadn't looked through before.

It's the part that isn't completely comfortable in his fuzzy slippers, holding a cup of cocoa and having his own bookshop with all his prized possessions in one place, and usually it isn't a very notable part at all. Aziraphale likes his quiet life after all, had asked heaven over and over to please allow him a permanent base of operations somewhere before they caved in and let him stay in London. Now that he is no longer in their employ, he has even less reason to be a vagabond without a home to return to. 

Still, at times he feels the road call for him, to leave everything and everyone behind, simply _move on_ \- it's a different feeling, a different need than simply wanting to go on a vacation. 

He remembers his voyages from old... Passing through lands no bring has passed through before... Perhaps it is more than just a doable wish to leave, but a mourning of the times that have passed. Now, there are few spaces that humans have not already left their mark upon.

The rain gets louder, the wind has turned and now raindrops patter against the walls, the glass.

Getting up from his armchair, the angel walks towards the window.

He can see the houses on the other side of the street, the lanterns, the lights... People hurrying along, hidden under dark umbrellas, black taxis blaring for other cars to get out of the way, and above the sky is a never-ending grey.

It should be gloomy, but somehow- 

Here, looking at the road below, the feeling of farsickness ends, or at the very least stops being so very all-encompassing.

 _This is home_ , Aziraphale thinks. _There are always opportunity costs, places I can't go at the same time as I am staying here, as I am not the Almighty and therefore cannot be in two places at once. But I belong here- and no matter what else I might miss out on, I know I made the right decision whenever I opt to stay._

A little bell alerts him of someone opening the door in the shop below, but someone stumbling over the umbrella stand and a familiar voice cursing tells him it is only Crowley coming for a visit.

Ah, the demon is another reason to stay. 

While Aziraphale is certain by now that Crowley would follow him anywhere if he only asked, he doesn't want to take England away from the demon. He knows how much the country and especially London mean to the demon, how much he has made it a home. Perhaps, one day, they will move in together somewhere away from the loud city, but he doubts it will be all that far.

Just outside in front of him, a traffic light changes colour.

Below, people stop walking and vehicles start to move.

The angel smiles.

"'Ziraphale?" 

Crowley comes in, pushing the door open with an elbow before lowering a few bags and shaking the water out of his clothes and hair, a little (vain, certainly demonic) miracle helping along to ensure everything looks perfect as always.

Giving a last look at the clouds above that stretch to the horizon, Aziraphale turns around, turns his attention back inside.

"Yes, my dear boy?"

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I focused on Aziraphale for one of these! Let me know what you think :)  
> I go through the comments whenever I post a new part, so I'll also let you know when there's more :D


End file.
